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Armando was silent for a moment, and Roman could hear tapping as if the other man was hitting something rhythmically. A pen against his desk, perhaps. “Other than her fatal mistake of cuckolding your father, Luciana was a good woman, a wonderful mother to you, and a bright spark around the mansion,” he finally said.
Roman gaped at the phone, glad his uncle couldn’t see his face. There was no way he was up to maintaining a poker face just now. “You’re going to say you liked my mother now?”
“I did like her,” Armando asserted. “Very much.”
Roman couldn’t believe the audacity of the man. “You just said you condoned what my father did to her!”
“She cheated, Roman. She broke the rules!” Armando yelled. Then he cleared his throat, saying flatly, “An eye for an eye.”
“An eye for an eye,” Roman murmured, staring blindly out the window.
“I am not going to offer the information to you again, Roman,” Armando warned.
Roman forcibly shook off the memories from the past, prioritizing the present. And hopefully, the future. “Give it to me.”
“Godfrey’s real name is Edward Christoff. He was born in England sixty years ago to Patrice and James Christoff,” Armando revealed without further ado.
Roman grabbed a pen and jotted down the details. He knew his uncle wouldn’t repeat himself. It was messy but legible. And hopefully, it would be enough to find an end to this once and for all. “Is that it?”
“That’s all there was in the vault. I’m sure your brother won’t have any trouble using it to find what you need.”
“Thank you,” Roman said. The words were hard to say, but genuine.
Armando hummed under his breath. “I would like to say you’re welcome, but I’m not sure you are.”
“What do I owe you? Manhattan?”
“Consider us even,” Armando surprised Roman by saying. “You let me live. I hold the reins to the Romano mafioso. All scores are settled.”
Roman understood what it meant. He no longer had anything to hold over his uncle or his old family. But it went both ways; Armando held no weight over him either. It was a more precarious position to be in than before. A move from either of them would mean all-out war. Though, perhaps Armando would stop sending contract killers after him now. He no longer needed the leverage.
“Fine. But perhaps you could stop trying to assassinate me?”
Armando made a sound that Roman couldn’t identify. “No promises.”
Roman shook his head, the tension from the last ten minutes leaving his body. The response was almost playful, and it maybe it made him an idiot, but he believed Armando would no longer be making any big moves. “How about telling your rat to stand down as well?”
Armando snorted, sounding amused. “And will you be doing the same?”
“Sure,” Roman responded immediately, having no intention of calling off his own spies.
“You must be rattled. You’re usually a much better liar,” Armando noted with a laugh. There was some hesitation before he spoke again. “That rat problem you have? I’d make sure it doesn’t jump to a bigger ship.”
Roman frowned. “A bigger ship? Are you saying your inside man is also working with Godfrey?”
“I’m saying greedy men are opportunists—always looking for a bigger cash cow.”
Roman shook his head, bemused and overwhelmed by the whole conversation. Armando was giving up lots of critical information. “Want to tell me their name?”
“Not a chance,” his uncle scoffed. He paused for a moment before saying, “Be well, Nephew.”
Armando hung up before Roman had a chance to say anything else. Not that he knew what he would say. The interaction had been wholly unexpected, and he was left reeling. He picked up the paper in front of him, reading over it. Godfrey had facilitated the sale of Luca. He rubbed his chest where it physically hurt. Coincidences were a crock of shit—he still believed that. But it would seem fate was another matter entirely. What were the chances Angela would be linked to Luca and, therefore, to him even before they met?
He took a moment to get his shit together, going into his bathroom and splashing cold water on his face before making his way to Luca’s office. He opened the door without knocking and then just stood there. The room was very much Luca—colorful, fun, and filled with tech. He watched Luca bop along to whatever was playing on his headset as he multitasked several things at once.
Angela was his light. She was saving him every day just by being her. But Luca was the one who saved him first. If Roman hadn’t taken on the responsibility of raising his brother, he wouldn’t have been forced to grow up or learn right from wrong. Luca was the reason Roman was even capable of loving Angela. Because he’d loved Luca first and, thus, could recognize the emotion.
“Roman? What’s up?”
